Your Holiness,
While my intention is to speak out against the Pharisees in my own land, I find that I must also address the Sadducees within yours.
I was advised to keep this brief and respectful, and I will try to do so. As an autistic and an American, I apologize if my tone or words fail to meet that expectation. I write to you not as a member of any clergy, but as a layman with faith in the teachings we both hold dear. I ask for no reverence, only that my words be taken as they are: sincere and spoken from a shared belief in the message of Christ.
To you, Pope Francis, I say this without reservation: you are one of the finest men to hold the keys of Saint Peter. Your humility, service, and devotion to the downtrodden have set a remarkable example for the modern Church. For that, you have my deepest respect. Yet I write to you today with a single plea: be not afraid.
It’s clear you are a true follower of Christ, a shepherd who loves his flock and honors the Lord’s message of compassion. But from where I stand, it seems you hold back. You’ve taken brave steps, appointing women to the Curia, urging kindness toward the LGBT community, and challenging the destructive greed of capitalism, but you stop short of going further. Women still cannot be ordained. Priests are still barred from blessing committed same-sex couples who love the Lord. And though you’ve criticized the systems that enable climate change and inequality, you have not called upon your flock to take direct, collective action against the forces destroying God’s creation.
Be not afraid. You are the Bishop of Rome, the Pontifex Maximus. You are the most powerful messenger of God on Earth. Why not use that power to its fullest?
Take off the robes and hat for a moment. Right now, I am speaking to Jorge. The janitor and bouncer from Buenos Aires, whose family fled Mussolini’s fascism. The kid from Flores who saw the injustice of the world with fresh eyes. If you asked young Jorge what he would do as pope, what would he say? Would he advise helping only as much as decorum allows? Would he settle for protecting some without upsetting the status quo? Would he hold back out of fear of breaking doctrine or offending tradition?
And what would that boy do now, seeing fascism on the rise again?
Surely, he would ask himself, what would Jesus do? What would the Carpenter say if he were given the resources and global network of the Catholic Church? You know the answer, Jorge. I know you do. The answer is the same today as it was two thousand years ago: imitatio Christi.
Saint Francis of Assisi believed in living as Christ did, in both poverty and preaching. He called for a life of service to the poor, to the forgotten, to those most in need. It’s a fitting name you chose for yourself, and I believe you share his spirit. But I implore you: take the next step. Use the resources of the Church to their fullest.
The coffers of the Vatican overflow with wealth, real estate, banking investments, art, gold. Why not order your priests to open their doors to the homeless? Why not sell what is unnecessary to fill the food pantries of the world’s poorest communities? Why not establish Church-owned agricultural ventures to feed the hungry, free of cost? The Church has stood at the heart of empires for centuries, but it is time to let go of its proximity to power. That power has too often fueled inequality and betrayed the teachings of Christ.
Capitalism, in its current form, strips dignity from the poor and drives the desperation that leads people to turn to strongmen for answers. And we know what happens when those strongmen rise to power.
Your Holiness, my friends and I are scared. In my country, we have seen fascism take root, led by a man as far from Christlike as anyone could imagine. Many Catholics voted for him, even as he stands convicted of violence, fraud, and other sins. They ignore his cruelty while labeling others “illegal” and placing them in camps. My LGBT friends fear they will be next. And I fear that the same holy book you preach from will be used to justify their oppression.
Your family fled Italy to escape Mussolini. Now, I see the same darkness growing in my own land. I cry out, but my voice is small. Yours, however, carries across the world.
Condemn fascism. Condemn the capitalists who exploit and destroy God’s beautiful planet. Speak loudly, openly, and without fear. Do not make the same mistake Pope Pius XII did by remaining neutral in the face of oppression.
From one follower of the Carpenter to another: be not afraid, Padre. Be the shepherd the world needs right now.
Via con Dios,
R.L. Lawrence